RP:Room to Grow
This is a Bard's Guild RP.
Summary: Brennia meets a gentleman that goes by the name of August and sings with such conviction that she offers him a place in the bard's guild or a teaching position at the DeVere College of Bardic Arts. Both if he wants, but this was a nice meeting of virtuosos.
Schezerade Tavern
The first thought running through one’s head upon entering this tavern is that it isn’t your typical watering hole. It’s constructed of polished white stone, brightly illuminated by golden chandeliers and torches, along with a cosy fire located at the southern side of the circular building. The very centre of the building is where the bar is located, where a pair of lovely twin avian women take orders and hand out drinks in gold cups. There is plenty of places to sit other than at the central bar as well; cushion-topped marble chairs fastened to the floor are placed around a matching marble table, also attached to the floor so it appears like both floor and tables were hewn from the same piece of marble. Flowers of every type and colour decorate the majority of the tavern as well, giving the ambiance to the building one of comfort and lavishness. You can almost hear the sounds of birds tweeting through the large, open windows, which let in a gentle breeze to only add more to the tavern’s relaxing feel.
Tiber :: When one would walk into the polished stone tavern, one would be hit with raw acoustics in the classier bar. High ‘ooos’ would start off the melody. An alternative sound would be echoed throughout the area. It was one of heartfelt, one where the crowd did not have to stand, but there they watched in awe. Almost a café-type vibe of singing. Tiberius being here was a purposeful choice, since normally Tiberius lingered in dives that smelled of must, whisky, and strong cigarettes that could screw up anyone’s lungs in one breath. A choice where he knew no one would recognize him. “I know I’m screwed up with my condition. I know you wanted my commitment,” the tone is steady, one of understanding. One that many couples and non-couples would relate to. Once one was in view of the man, he would be sitting on a barstool with his guitar. He wears a flannel, khakis, spectacles that look hipster on the face with a hat to cover the texture of his hair except for the ends. The blonde waves sticking out from the bottom. “Suffice to say, I know that I’m high-strung and I gotta let you go. You know~” he drags out the word ‘know’ in different octaves, “I gotta lot of room to grow,” the word ‘grow’ echoes throughout the room and lyrics continue for a while before the strums take over in their consistent pattern.
Brennia meanders into the tavern, Thedez close to follow, though she hasn't visited here in some time because it reminds her too much of Niall and Queenie as those solid teal hues glance to the place the farm grown boy once sat with his precious pup at his feet, but that was long ago and it was far away from her now. Yet, this is not why she is here and with a few blinks, the avian pulls her gaze away to see some sideways glances aimed towards her. Right. Suddenly conscious of her drastic appearance from a couple years ago, she smooths the large cord knit off the shoulder sweater that hangs over her legging covered thighs. The people of Schezerade used to see Brennia as strongly determined and voluptuous, dressed in the finest suits, hair styled to perfection as she ran for senator, but now they see a frail, thin and weak woman who wears clothes three sizes too large while trying to clean up the mess Kahran's minions left behind. They are thankful for the woman, but they've lost hope that things will ever be the same for their floating city ever again. Pulling away from what used to be, the tavern is full of life; all walks of it have gathered here, most of them avians from the university, but they are mingling eagerly with all the bard college students and that image alone is enough to spread a warm smile across Brennia's lips. The semester is set to begin soon and there is talk of a homecoming party in the courtyard of the college, but most of all they are excited for this year's promising performances. Yet, everyone in the place is entranced by the current performance as the fresh new sound brings a unique vibe throughout the opulent establishment and the patrons are soaking it up. Brennia's high ponytail flips from one shoulder to the other as she tries looking for what she came for, what the heck did she come here for? Suddenly, the tattooed caramel skinned woman is drawn nearer to the crowd and gently maneuvers into it to enjoy the sound with the rest. Oh, she definitely can feel the heart-break, who isn't familiar with the emotion?
Tiber has his eyes closed at this point as he continues singing into the mic, “I know I’m more than penitent. Just a boy who does not know if he will feel okay soon again. I thought I could love you, but instead I kept telling you –no-,” ‘no’ is stressed in this line and amber eyes open beneath glasses as he looks out at the crowd. “You know I’m very guarded, and you know,” breath, “I have a lot of room to grow,” the voice is strong and powerful before he then slows down the acoustics before closing his eyes again before stopping the acoustics completely to sing with rawness, “You know,” beat, “I have a lot of room to grow.” He lets the silence take over before the crowd begins to clap. “Thank you. I’m Augustus Rivers. August for short. You can catch me on the eastern sides of Lithrydel in taverns all around.” He then stands with his guitar and slings it behind his back before grabbing the glass of whiskey tucked under the stool before maneuvering through the crowd while downing the glass back and placing it on the bar for another round.
Brennia practically holds her breath during the last verse of the song and can feel the power of the ballad stirring up old emotions in her from damage done long ago. The oversized sleeves of her sweater bunches at her hands as she holds them over the center of her chest as if she can soothe them and push those pesky feelings back down, but even a lump was forming in her throat and she wasn't the only one getting misty eyed. The crowd doesn't just clap, they are roaring, cheering and whistling. Brennia claps, of course, but when she goes to join in the cheering, Thedez gently places his hand on her elbow - reminding her that she shouldn't be straining her voice. There is a thin bag hidden along the cover of her large black wings which she reaches to fumble through (basically a fanny pack thing) and once she pulls free quite a few gold pieces to place in his cup, he's already leaving it behind. "Excuse me," her smoky alto timbre barely raises over the commotion of the crowd as they begin to disperse. Thedez has to help her through the crowd or else she'd be bounced around like a ping pong ball. Picking the cup up, she braves through the crowd again, but makes sure to tap people on the shoulder and shake the cup that has his name on it at them. With a nearly full tip cup, the bard finally sets herself next to Augustus and he's greeted with a warm smile, but most peculiarly, he can also pick up on his favorite scent coming off the avian (but he's probably figured by now that all avians up here smell like that.) "Evening mister Augustus, you left this," her voice oddly soothing and her warm smile possibly contagious if she didn't look so tired.
Tiber pulls the guitar over his shoulders to seat himself at the bar. Lazy fingers drum against the surface of the counter as he waits for the next refill. The glass slides across the counter and the lycan is relieved. There was a twitch in his hands for the next fix that makes the feelings suppressed and numb. He did not hear the avian who was chasing after him, for he was blocking out senses. Until she approaches. He could sense her and amber eyes flick her direction. "August is fine.” Eyes dance down to the tip cup. “Wow, so honorable,” there was a hint of sarcasm in such a strong word. He takes a moment to study her with glazed eyes under glasses. Her voice was cool, collected. A sense of warmth but… something was off. “Are Schezerade folk always… bright and shiny? If I was in—“ do not say Cenril. “I mean most people would have collected their own.” He really did not know many avians. Only the one that led him here for a few silver.
Brennia smooths a tattooed hand down one of her black as night wings as they curve around herself some more and if one looked close enough, they would see hues of forest greens and navy blues when the light hits them just right. "Okay, August," there is a slight accent when she says someone else's name because she had practiced common enough, but not names and sometimes that Veretian (French) accent pokes through. Picking up on his sarcasm earned a short raspy giggle. "My name is Brennia," said bren-eye-uh, "I am the dean at the DeVere College of Bardic Arts." At his question, her bony exposed shoulder gives a slight shrug, "Vermillion Draft and his Homicide Hotel didn't help our case, but many of us try." That horror story is commonly told around the spooky season and people dare each other to stand in the ruins of his 'mysteriously' burned down hotel just around the corner. "Most avians are more in the pursuit of the arts and knowledge," Schezerade is renowned for their library. "So, how long have you been performing?"
Tiber finds amber hues gazing over the wings of the avian. The man notices the accent immediately, for the man was fluent in many languages and knew of many geographical regions, but he keeps that to himself. Veretian was one he was not fluent in, but it sounded familiar to what he was thinking. “Brennia,” he plays with the name on his own accented tongue, but the accent is unclear. Catal was fainted in the tone because his tone was stained with common. He leans back and sips the drink back. “Quite the title. Dean. Sounds intimidating,” but obviously not to him as he remains casual, careless, stoic. Always stoic. “Sounds gruesome and typical in Lithrydel,” he says flatly. Tiber aka August was not really charming to most people. He was monotone and rude unless he wanted to get under skin or wanted something. He then takes another sip before letting out that gasping sound of ‘refreshment’. “Oh, intellects. No wonder you have a palace as a bar. Classier folk, I assume. Well… some.” He then stares forward to make up a quick white lie, for the blonde was very persuasive. “Practiced the guitar since age 12,” truth. “Grew up in an orphanage,” truth, “in Gualon,” not true. “Had all the free time in the world. Put it to rest for a few years. Now, here I am. So, if I add it up… fifteen years, but not much of the vocals as much as guitar. Self-taught. Vocals are… newer. Writing songs is also new, Miss Dean.” The mock is there, but the air is still inviting.
Brennia is from an island on the other side of the world only reachable, or inviting to, avians. It is primarily why her skin is darker than typical avians who are usually pale or even greyish in color and why there is a tattoo pattern that seemingly covers every inch of her, even around her hairline. "I did start up the school in my own castle, but now I just settle students into their dorms, help them choose a schedule to suit their talents and teach a beginners course a few times a week. I am mostly an educator when it comes down to it," She is a little bummed that she won't be able to travel to Cenril as often until winter break. Brennia is unbothered to the truths people choose to keep or change, everyone's story is their own. "You do have a talent for it, August. Has the thought ever occurred to you to expand on it? Join up with the bard's guild," which she used to lead. "Teach some classes on that unique instrument," acoustic guitars haven't been around nearly long enough for most to even know where to begin to play it. "Advertise yourself some more and become a well known performer?" There is a lot of coin in it these days, "you know, like that one band, The Sound of Sirens."
Tiber finds his gaze moving back to her briefly. Brooding, but attentive. The way she looked said… otherwise. So frail and tired. Could she even hold it together long enough to teach without that escort beside her that he has been avoiding? “Ah, smart woman, I’d say. Creating a school of your own, but at the same time… teaching? You? ” It would be clever of her. For the pockets. At least, that was what he assumed. As she compliments him, he becomes a little distant. Eyes keep on the contents in the glass as he swirls the whiskey around. “No,” his response was stern at first, but then he sets the cup down. His voice lifts a little. “No, I haven’t. Never really been the… type to do that.” He paused. “Most people can get the hang of it once starting with a mandolin. That’s where it helps,” he sort of shrugs this off nonchalantly before falling silent on her words. Her words run through his mind. “I’m not really the guildy type nor the… teacher type.” Then again, he was… Adventurer’s Guild. Duh, Tiber. Tiber knew of The Sound of Sirens, but had never heard them perform exactly. For being well-known, he was not sure, but he does not comment on that factor because… that would be a possible move where one would ask ‘why not’, and he was trying to avoid anymore ‘personal’ details.
Brennia lets out another short raspy giggle, maybe it's a little contagious, even with the way those ridiculous sleeve covered hands raising up to cover her mouth. "Yes, me. I teach interpretation and how to properly convey meanings in songs, but I had my day wallowing in sorrows, using up people, using up funky herbs, and searching the bottoms of every blackfire wine bottle," her soft grin remains because she knows all the signs of heartbreak. She's been there! Done that! "Well, guess proof is better in action than flimsy promises," with that the six foot two woman raises to her feet once more and she holds her hand out, "may I?" Solid teal hues flick from him to the guitar strapped to his back. Thedez crosses his arms over his muscular chest as he rests back on his tail with a frustrated sigh. He knew that look and there was no stopping Brennia even though she is going to regret this for the next few days. The naga orders tea with honey for when the bard is done. Once he obliges, she smiles brightly, this time all of her perfect pearly whites show and dimples poke into her cheeks, "thank you." Without hesitation she plants herself down on the stool 'August' had been using and a tense silence breaks over the room because they hadn't seen her perform in years, but the few older students look positively delighted in wait, "I'd like to dedicate this one to Niall." The song starts off soft and sorrowful while the guitar accompaniment gently ebbs out the warm sound like night waves in the ocean. "When you need to smile, but you can't afford it. Go on, point it out, I'm gonna steal it." that smoky alto timbre matches the warmth of the acoustic guitar, but most of all, every note swallows the patron's emotions. Her bardic magic wasn't used to enhance the airyness of her voice or ability to strum along on the guitar, but it does hone in on all of those delicate and tucked away emotions. Every crescendo soaks into the soul and soothes those old places that still ache.
Tiber actually smirks back at her. The way that the avian giggles reminds him of… the witch. Though, the smirk fades as once as it is given. Such a moody man. “Sounds like you’re a mess.” Wow, Tiber, really? Hypocritical. His pores were oozing out whiskey, that was how much a mess he was. She could probably read that he was a mess which is why they are having this conversation even if he is in denial. Once she stands, he looks up. “You’re really gonna play? Really?” He makes the ‘pfft’ sound while whiskey breath blows out his lips. “Be my guest, love,” he raises his eyebrows as if she was out of her mind. Did she even have enough energy? Eyes look to Thedez with amusement in his eyes because Tiber was liking the thought of Brennia proving herself. The lycan was like that. He turns his body to where he was once performing and watches her steadily take a seat down on the stool. An elbow leans back on the counter. Niall. The vibrato in her voice fills the room as the raw vocals echo the tavern. The emotion in the song has his leg shaking in a creeping anxious way. The glass behind him is sipped on before it is fully down burning his gullet. The alto that fills the room is airy, heart-filling and a song that Tiber did not want to let get to him because… it would. If the song creeps, there would be nothing but… bitter sorrow. A feeling purposefully pushed down. The man masks his emotions with another drink while she sings. The lycan watching her in the back distance through the crowd. There is a tightness in the line on his mouth. She was right, he was wrong and he… just listens.
Brennia is definitely expending herself. Before her torment on that damn farm, she could have done whole sets without issue, but now she's got to be choosey on when she uses her powers. The whole tavern fills with raw emotions and Brennia knows that there is strength in tears because right when the song swells, "I'll never stop breaking the law for you, I'll never stop helping to pull you through. Whatever it takes to get what you need, ignore the alarm, ignore the police," a single tear streaks out of the corner of her eye and travels down to the point of her chin, but her voice didn't waver, didn't crack, didn't even shake. All the while, if it weren't for her playing, you could hear a pin drop because the bustle of the tavern is at a stand still and one might even feel as if time had stopped. When the song hits the ending decrescendo, there is a pause in the small crowd and deafening silence just before an applause rumbles throughout the place. Brennia stands and bows a couple times, that bright genuine smile cracked across her whole face this time and she makes her way to Tiber, holding out his guitar. The notes were simple enough in the song, but she feels the need to clarify, "my dear friend Sidd showed me how to play on his guitar some years ago and it did take some work."
Tiber :: The crowd is deafening now as her voice fills the tavern. Tiber is the only one in motion, but his gaze does not break away from where Brennia stands. There is a sickening feeling. One pain that grows tight in his gut. One that swirls and makes him feel like he is lost at sea. A boat rocking back and forth as the nausea kicks in. The fire from whiskey tames his stomach for the meantime. The words that echo from Brennia’s mouth makes him reflect on memories he wishes he never had because here he was right now in the poor state of mind. On the brink of letting the song eat him whole. No. No. Finally, the ending decrescendo nears and with the pause of the crowd, it is like he can breathe again from the waves of strums and lyrics. The crowd applauses and Tiber is left ticking one finger against the glass of whiskey. The avian’s smile beams and Tiber is left to pick up his own pieces as she nears. Instantly he reaches out for the guitar. “That was…” impressive, Tiber. You can say it, you know. Speechlessness would clear the air and the avian would know what he meant. “Sounds like Sidd knew their stuff. And… I was wrong about you. Sounds like Niall did a number,” and then nonchalantly he would stand, wrap the guitar around his back, and stretch back slightly with the drink in his hand. “So you still, uh, you go to that guild group club thing or whatever? Or… uh, you hiring teachers?” The questions are ridiculously casual as he plays that… bro-like ‘I do not care either way’ attitude. Though... interest piqued.
Brennia is still smiling warmly at him, not prodding or dissecting his need to appear okay. She gets it. "Thank you August and yes, he sure did." A quirk of her brow at the mention of Niall, "oh... It's more of what I did to him and the endless what if's." Quickly using her sleeve to dab the moist spot under her chin that the single tear left. "I do, yes. I used to lead the bard's guild, but the woman I ran it with is the sole leader now. Consider yourself joined whenever you feel ready. As far as a teacher, you can come by and tour the college whenever you'd like, my door is always open." Thedez hands her the tea and she continues to stand with August while slowly sipping the soothing liquid, "before I started teaching, my mate was killed and I spent a year or so allowing myself to wallow, but when I began educating and connecting with others through song is what saved my life." The bard's story has a purpose for what this stranger is going through, but the way she tells it and her expression is that of nonchalants as if she's simply sharing for the sake of sharing so he doesn't feel put on the spot or awkward.
Tiber teeth begin to grit together with a sharp inhale for a moment. ‘It’s more of what I did to him’. He blows off the edge with a clear of his throat and a finish of the drink as if the sharp inhale did not happen. She, however, is dabbing a tear. It left him confused, but his face remains like stone. “Well, maybe I’ll see you around again.” He sort of shrugs the guitar strap again. As she casually speaks of her past, he has a hardened brow and eyes that are… distant. That wave of feeling comes crashing down on him again. “Err, condolences,” there was hesitance. A beat. He could not relate to that, yet at the same time, there was still pain with any relationship. Big or small. “I’m glad music helped. It, uh, seems to help me too. Err…” Emotions were hard. Awkward. A thing to avoid. “Brennia,” he finally looks at her in the glazed haze of too much whiskey, “thank you. For my tips… and… uh, the nudge in a possibly new direction. It was, uh, a good to meet you.” His tone is off-kilter. Awkward, yet… true. “I’ll see you around. Hopefully. Take, uh, care.” With that, he pivots and begins to shuffle through the people to make his way out of the tavern without one glance back.
Brennia shrugs, "it was ages ago now, but thank you - you didn't have to," this isn't the first guarded and rough around the edges type person that she's met in her long life. "Exactly, it's us against them, we can't let them win," 'them' being emotions, traumas, issues - all of it. That warm and accepting smile graced her lips once more, "I was happy to be of assistance, August. I'll be wishing you plenty of luck and whenever you decide to come around, I'll be there to help again." Her voice cracks a little and she sips on the honeyed tea to soothe her worn down vocal chords. She's been through hell, her strength is fading and her days are possibly numbered, but she has this major flaw to always help anyone and everyone she can - it's sickening, really. Just as the male makes it through the threshold there is a clank on the marble floors and a shatter for she dropped the cup to clutch her abdomen, but Thedez is right there and ready to catch Bre as if he knew this would happen. "Ara…" she barely whispers. It's time for some more healing and possibly another surgery.